The Other Half of my Soul addm-1

by Gareth D. Williams

  “Yeah well. I wouldn’t count us out just yet. We aren’t entirely alone, you know.”

  “The Narns? What good would they be? No, Captain, we are all alone, always. All alone in the night.”

  “Whatever. Shouldn’t you be looking after G’Kar or something?”

  “Ta’Lon is doing that.”

  “If he is, he’s got a bloody funny way of doing it. I saw him limping off in that direction.”

  “For the moment, G’Kar is alive. Whether he dies sometime today is at the bidding of other powers than mine.”

  Sheridan looked at Neroon closely. Then he gave a soft chuckle and resumed his pacing. “You find something funny?” the Minbari remarked.

  “You. What the hell is a Minbari warrior doing out in a Narn wilderness surrounded by Narns? If you were as important as you say, you could be leading your armies by now. Hell, you could even be on the Grey Council.”

  “Perhaps. There would certainly be a place for me if Sinoval ever rises to the position he desires. And certainly, were I still on Minbar, I might even be Entil’zha by now. Branmer had named me his heir, after all.”

  “So, then? Why are you here?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Well, if you remember, you, Ta’Lon, and that lying bitch Na’Toth beat the living daylights out of me and dragged me all the way up here. Or did you think I was here for my health?”

  “You are, and if you do not recognise that, then it is your problem. But you answered the wrong question, Captain. Why are you here, now, in this place, in this time, in that uniform?”

  “I…” Sheridan hesitated. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

  “The universe puts us in places where we may do the most good. G’Kar told me that, echoing Minbari beliefs as he did so. I am here because I believe it is the right place for me to be. I can do more good here than I could on Minbar. Ta’Lon also feels he can do more here than as a bodyguard or a servant in G’Khamazad. We are in the places where we can do the most good. Are you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then you are not. I suggest you find your right place, Captain, and do so swiftly. Battle lines are being drawn. Oh, not between human and Minbari, or against Narn and Centauri, but between Light and Darkness. There can be no middle road.”

  “And you’re on the side of Light, I suppose?”

  “I would like to think so.”

  “So then,” Sheridan said, half jokingly, “where am I? The Darkness, I suppose? Your enemy?”

  “You have a foot in two worlds, Captain. You are split down the middle, evenly. You will have to decide where your loyalties lie.”

  “The same place they always have. With my people.”

  “But who represents your people? Who among your people has the right to tell you what to do, where to stand, what to say? If your people are split, then where do you stand? To the Darkness, or the Light, or off to the side, feigning an impossible neutrality? You may soon have to make a choice, Captain, and if you are not ready for it, that choice will destroy you.”

  “What do you know about choices?”

  Neroon seemed to smile. “Let me tell you a story, Captain. It begins many thousands of years ago…”

  * * * * * * *

  The Minbari woman who, a million years ago, had been Satai Delenn of the Grey Council, blinked and tried to swallow. Her throat was dry and sore. She had lost track of time in this cell, but she knew she had not slept or eaten since she had been brought here. She was afraid, and alone, and doubted her purpose. She even doubted her own identity, and were it not for Mr. Welles’ often sarcastic use of her name, she would doubt that as well.

  “So, Satai Delenn, did you have a pleasant rest?” Welles sat down and casually flicked the switch that ended the electric shocks designed to stop her sleeping. He rested his elbows on the table and joined his fingers into a steeple, looking at her over the top of it.

  “Today, I need to talk to you about the organisation of your army. I understand that…”

  “I will tell you nothing more,” she spat. Welles raised an eyebrow, in a gesture that she knew to mean sardonic surprise, even amusement. “You will have to take it from me by force.”

  “I see. And what has brought on this sudden gesture of defiance, hmm? To what do I owe this pleasure of your renewed resistance?”

  What could she tell him? That she had realised that Valen was human? Could she tell him that? Or would the simple uttering of that belief to any other sentient being just result in the final confirmation of her insanity? Or of her damnation? Of the end of her great destiny and holy cause?

  She had always known that if she died, another would stand up in her place. But who was that other to be? Sinoval? He was touched by the Darkness in a way that he could not see or understand, but the taint was there all the same. Lennann? He lacked the courage, and the belief in himself. Hedronn? He lacked the belief that he mattered. Branmer? He was dead. Draal? He doubted his ability. Neroon? He was… gone.

  There was no one to replace her, and with her loss the Grey Council would fall as the Rangers had fallen, and the only hope for Light would be a Narn.

  “I could simply force the information from you, of course. Incidentally, I understand that Miss Alexander is not well at the moment. Some sort of seizure last night, apparently. She is recovering in Medlab, but it will be a few more days before she can return here. No doubt that fills you with joy?”

  “How can the pain of another living being fill anyone with joy?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. Did you feel joy at the conquest of Earth? Did you feel joy at the near-annihilation of a species? Did you?”

  “No!”

  “Oh, Satai Delenn. Lie to me all you like, but do not lie to yourself. You did, didn’t you? But it was all right. You were mad at the time. Insane. You are therefore excused your actions, aren’t you? They can be justified, explained away as no more than a fluke of circumstance.

  “Explain that away to the relatives of all who died there! How can you? How can you look at all those widows and orphans and childless parents and lie to them?”

  “I cannot,” she whispered.

  “How can you tell them that you felt no joy in the actions you took?”

  “I cannot.”

  “Then how can you say that to yourself?”

  “I… cannot.”

  “There, you see. One more question. How can you live with yourself with all that blood on your hands?”

  “I… can… No. I have to continue. You do not understand. You cannot understand. I was wrong, yes. We were wrong. We were ruled by anger and hatred and fear, and we lashed out at those we felt were to blame. We felt you were to blame and so we lashed out, without reason, without sense or logic.

  “And now you are what we created from that madness. You are alone, Mr. Welles, just as we were. You are alone with your fear and your anger and your hatred. I have nothing to say to the widows and the orphans and the childless parents, but this alone.

  “Do not follow our path! We were wrong. If you follow in our footsteps… if you make a pact with Darkness to satisfy your own need for revenge, then you will be just as bad as we were, and your mistakes will be just as severe as ours.”

  “This… Darkness? Who is to say that it is not our Light? Our hope for the future. And who is to say, Satai Delenn, that we are fighting your people out of a desire for revenge? We are simply obeying the greatest desire of any sentient being – the urge to survive! Your people will destroy us. Oh, maybe you don’t want to, but those you left behind will. We will take whatever steps we deem necessary to save our people! What gives you the right to deny us that one, simple thing – to survive?”

  “And how many must die for you to survive?”

  “As many as it takes.”

  “You are a child, Mr. Welles. A frightened child lashing out at those you see as being responsible for your fear.”

  “At those who are responsible for our fear. And that i
s you, Satai Delenn. Never forget that. Never ever forget those you killed, and never let their screams dull in your ears, for they will never dull in mine.”

  “I will never forget that, Mr. Welles, but I will know how to use the memory of the fallen to create a better future.”

  Welles gave a harsh laugh. “Look around you, Satai Delenn. This, this is your future. This one room. That single chair. Miss Alexander. And me. That is all your future consists of. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  * * * * * * *

  “There are beings in this universe billions of years older than either of our races. Once, long ago, they walked among the stars like giants, vast and timeless. They taught the younger races, explored beyond the Rim, created great empires. But to all things, there is an end. Slowly, over a million years, the First Ones went away. Some passed beyond the stars never to return. Some simply disappeared.

  “Not all the First Ones have gone away. A few remained, hidden or asleep, waiting for the day when the Shadows come again. The oldest of the ancients are the Shadows. We have no other name for them. We need no other name for them.

  “A thousand years ago, the Shadows were defeated, driven from their homeworld of Z’ha’dum, out on the Rim, by a coalition of races. It was the last time the First Ones walked openly among us. Awaiting the fulfilment of prophecy, we have been preparing ourselves for the day when the Shadows returned to Z’ha’dum.

  “We first discovered evidence that the Shadows were returning shortly after the attack on your homeworld. We uncovered a vessel of the Enemy’s buried deep under the soil of your red planet. It sent out a beacon to Z’ha’dum, and we destroyed it.

  “There was another Shadow vessel in your solar system, hidden in a moon of your largest planet. That one also awoke, and the Shadows sent a ship to retrieve it. We were waiting, and we were defeated. Four of our greatest ships were destroyed, with contemptuous ease. We knew that the Great War spoken of by Valen was coming, and we knew that we had to be ready.

  “And so we began to prepare. The Rangers, last formed a thousand years ago, were reformed, consisting of Minbari from all three castes, but predominantly the warriors. To lead them, we chose Branmer, greatest of our Warleaders, but he was greatest of all in that he was a Warleader with no love of war. He was admired and respected and led the Rangers well. As his aide, I was always at his side. I was a Ranger. I went out on missions, evaluating the power of the Shadows, gathering knowledge, creating alliances.

  “Four cycles ago, I was on a mission to one of the Markab worlds. The Markab also knew about the Shadows, and they were dying of a mysterious plague. I had been sent to recover certain artifacts, which might prove to be beneficial against the Shadows. Others were there, too. Agents of the Enemy. One was a human woman, fair of face. There is an old saying among my people. ’Evil sometimes wears a pleasant face.’

  “She knew what I wanted, and she wanted the same. We fought and I killed her, but there was something which resided inside her. The same beast we defeated today. It attacked me, and nearly killed me. I was left to die, wounded and alone, on an alien world.

  “But I did not die. I was saved by Ta’Lon. He too was in pursuit of these artifacts, and he knew about the Rangers. He bandaged my wounds and healed me, and when I asked him why, he said it was because we fight the same war.

  “And then he told me. We were not the only ones who knew of the Shadows. Another did. G’Kar. He was gathering his own forces, in secret, paving the way. Ta’Lon brought me here, to see G’Kar, and I experienced a revelation. I had been wrong. In my arrogance, I had been very wrong. We were not the right ones to lead in the war. Already the Rangers were falling apart. Branmer was ill, and I knew I could not lead. That would leave one such as Sinoval, or Kalain, and the Rangers would become a political tool, and not an Army of Light.

  “And I returned to Minbar. I spoke with Branmer and he told me that I must follow my heart. And then I spoke with Delenn, and we parted, and I came here, and I have served G’Kar and his dream ever since, because it is right. I have sacrificed my love, my rank, and my title, but I know that this is right.”

  Neroon finished his story and looked at Sheridan, who simply stared back. Delenn? He had known Delenn? And all this about the Darkness and the Shadows. That was who Susan’s friends were. Of course, she had told him much of this, but how much was true, and how much simply lies? Why would G’Kar fight the Shadows? Why?

  “I’m not sure whether to believe you,” Sheridan replied.

  “Then by all means, do not. Believe G’Kar. When he recovers, he will want to talk to you.”

  “He’s dying. Can’t you see that? Who can help him, out here?”

  “He can.” Neroon pointed and Sheridan turned. He started, and simply stared.

  He’d never seen a Vorlon before.

  * * * * * * *

  There will be a price to pay, the Vorlon said as it stood over G’Kar’s body. He is dying. He will be dead. There will be a price.

  “It will be paid,” Neroon assured it.

  Yes, it said.

  Sheridan was not quite sure what happened next. The Vorlon’s encounter suit began to open, and there was a blinding light. He staggered back, covering his eyes, and when he opened them again G’Kar was standing – unsteadily, true, but he was standing – and the Vorlon’s encounter suit was closed.

  “Thank you, my friend,” G’Kar whispered.

  The Vorlon made a gesture that might have been a nod, and turned. It hesitated when it saw him, and seemed to study him. Then it looked away.

  “What… what did you see?” Sheridan asked. “What do they look like?”

  But before he could get an answer, the Vorlon turned to him again. Learn, it said.

  A force threw him against the far wall. The Vorlon’s eye socket blazed brilliantly and he felt the surroundings fade around him.

  It was a dead world, barren and wasted.

  Z’ha’dum.

  “That’s… that’s the homeworld of the Shadows. But that’s where… There’s her ship. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  Yes.

  “What’s… what’s happening? Oh my God. She’s waking them up, isn’t she? She’s waking them…”

  The image faded and Sheridan fell, slumping to the floor. “Why did you show me that?” he asked. There was no reply.

  “He knows,” spoke up G’Kar suddenly. “The Vorlons know everything there is to know about everything. Welcome, Captain. This meeting has been long in coming.”

  Sheridan looked at G’Kar. The Narn was hobbling, limping and holding his side tenderly, but he could easily see the force of personality within him. The same force of personality that had bound people like Ta’Lon and Neroon and Na’Toth to his side.

  Suddenly, the Vorlon moved again. “They are here,” it said.

  Sheridan felt a familiar play around the corner of his mind. There was a sudden pain and he collapsed. He knew the Vorlon was responsible, and he looked up at it.

  “Leave… me… alone!” he cried.

  They are here, was its only reply. You must be ready.

  “Who are…?” And then he saw her. Entering the room was none other than Ivanova.

  “John, are you all right?” she asked, holding a PPG before her. A strange expression of disgust spread over her face when she saw the Vorlon. “What have they been doing to you?”

  “Nothing, I…”

  Go, the Vorlon said, speaking to Susan. He is not for you. Go! Now!

  She opened fire. The PPG blasts were no more than ant-stings to a Vorlon, and it simply concentrated on her. “Come on, John!” she cried. “We can’t stay here all day.”

  “But…” he whispered, and then another burst of agony tore through the forefront of his brain.

  “Go limp, Captain,” said a familiar voice. It was Marcus. “I’ll get you out of here.”

  “Captain,” said G’Kar. “Heed the warning, Captain. Listen to… what…”

  Sheridan had not heard him. Limp i
n Marcus’ arms, he was carried away. Neroon and Ta’Lon made to move after them, but G’Kar raised his hand.

  Let them go, said the Vorlon. He has a destiny. He will learn it. In time.

  “And what do we do now, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar?” asked Ta’Lon.

  “This place is lost to us,” he said. “But we will rebuild. Remember our purpose.”

  Remember, said the Vorlon in agreement. Remember, and learn.

  * * * * * * *

  It had been an uneventful return from the G’Khorazhar Mountains for Sheridan, Marcus and Ivanova. They had made their way to a shuttle Susan claimed to have been given by Commander Corwin. It was a short journey by shuttle to the Babylon.

  Corwin had not been idle during all this. He had sent agents out into G’Khamazad, and tried to follow what was happening. The major news at the moment was the mysterious death of Councillor Du’Rog. The evidence of the black flower left in his quarters indicated that the death was a political assassination – organised by the Narn guild of assassins, the Thenta Ma’Kur. Who might have paid them was another matter. The affair of the large recent payment to his accounts from agents who could be traced back all the way to the Grey Council, and to Satai Sinoval’s office, and Warmaster Jha’dur of the Dilgar, was not made public. Councillor Na’Toth had managed to clean up her investigation into Sheridan’s betrayal on Vega 7 with no mess. She believed it was merely financial in substance, and reported to that effect to G’Kar. Any involvement by the Enemy was not recognised.

  Sheridan spent much of the return journey from Narn thinking, trying to make sense of the visions he had been shown, and of the story Neroon had told him. Upon his return, he briefed the Resistance Government on the official purpose for his visit to Narn.

  The Kha’Ri had refused to believe that the Minbari were responsible for the assault on Vega 7, and they would lend no official assistance in a strike against the Minbari. Sheridan’s private suspicions as to the fate of Vega 7 remained just that – private. Later, in secret, a more detailed and very selective version of Sheridan’s experiences on Narn was relayed to General Hague by Susan Ivanova. He was left to wonder if the Kha’Ri would be effective allies any more.